George and Cara
by Bombora
Summary: Escaping pygmy puffs, Great Aunt Muriel, a weird phobia of weddings and to top it all off, Cara's pregnant! How will she get through such a tough year with all of this on top of You-Know-Who's terror reign? Please read and review!  NEW story!


_OKAY short introduction to the NEW Cara. Next chapter will be up soon!_

_~I don't own Harry Potter~_

_But Cara's completely mine! (And Viola...)_

_/_

My name is Cara Kingsley. Honestly, that's not my real last name, but my adoptive Dad's name. I take it as my own because I can still remember my family and it hurts too much. My real family name is Cara Prewett.

When I was two years old, my entire family was killed by Bellatrix and another Death Eater, Yaxley. I can remember what happened.

_"Cara? Are you in there?" my mum said through the laundry cupboard door. My cheeks were hot, so I must have been crying. I was scared to come out because I didn't know a lot of people out there. "Well, you just stay there. I'll come and get you when you need to blow out the candles. Okay, honey?"_

_I didn't answer her, so she walked back down the stairs to the lounge, and she must have been waddling a bit. She was 6 months pregnant. _

_I must have fallen asleep. When I woke up, the whole house was really silent. Maybe Mum forgot and everyone's gone home? So I got up to see, walking quietly in case Mum was resting._

_Now I know no one was resting. I just curled up next to mum and dad, where they lay on the floor, wands in hand. They wouldn't wake up, so I thought I'd sleep too. _

_That's how Kingsley and Dumbledore found me._

Kingsley was my godfather and really close with my family. So, officially, he took me in. But being a full time auror, as well as being a good one, meant I spent a lot of time with the Weasley's, although not for long periods of time, usually just a week at most and only every couple of months. When I wasn't staying with them, I lived in a muggle world. Kingsley was, after all, the muggle prime minister's wizarding body guard, and he lived close to muggles. I grew up in inner-city London and loved it.

I went to school with muggle children and was shunned because I could do tricks. Some tricks I couldn't control. They didn't like those tricks.

I met my best friend, Viola, in school when we were eight. She was the oddest child, now I think of it. She wore funny clothes that I found very pretty, but they weren't fashionable, so other children didn't like her or them. But we sat together. She didn't question my tricks. She found them quite entertaining. She is quite like Luna Lovegood, but a muggle and not as interested in things others can't see.

When I was eleven, my letter for Hogwarts came. I was told by Kingsley to tell Viola I was going to a private boarding school that my parents had had organised for me in their will, but I also added it was because of my tricks. She nodded solemnly in a way that an eleven year old shouldn't and told me we would stay friends.

And that we did.

In our first year, I was almost sorted into Ravenclaw. But the Sorting Hat decided I was destined for greater things than wit and study and put me into Gryffindor. I sat with Katie Bell and we were soon joined by Angelina Johnson and Lee Jordan, then Alicia Spinnet and finally the twins.

In third year, when Harry Potter started school, George asked me on a date. By any means, it wasn't much of a date, but we've been together almost since then, for six years, which does seem an awful lot of time. But it was time well spent.

Before we started our OWLs year, I stayed with the Order of the Pheonix at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. I never would ahve thought You-Know-Who would come back (the adults were so sure, and when you're not an adult, you look up to everyone who is), but Harry's face convinced me. He was really cut up that year. I guess seeing a mate die in front of your eyes, then duelling the most feared Dark wizard in history (who was supposed to be dead, anyway) and then coming back to find the Auror and teacher you trusted is actually a Death Eater in disguise, totally setting you up for the Dark Lord, then to have the entire Wizarding world turn their back on you after loving you for so long, just for telling the truth must be ... hard to say the least. Poor Harry. His entire life has been set out to Kill You-Know-Who.

I was made a prefect in fifth year, much to the jargon of Fred and George. I have no idea why they made me a prefect, maybe so I could keep the twins in line. But let me tell you, that did not happen. Those two cannot be controlled. (And Filch seriously does have an entire drawer devoted to them).

During school, I found friends in the oddest places.

Hermione Granger was a fair bit like me, so we got along fine even though she was two years younger and rather stuck up. But I loved her still. She knew what it was like to do tricks and have muggle children not know why and hate you for it.

Luna Lovegood is just one friend I never really thought I would have. Don't get me wrong, she's a lovely person, once you move past animals the average person can't see.

She inspired me to start my own fashion label when I was sixteen, with Viola at the helm of the business in the muggle world, and Luna in all her oddness that I loved, so I just drew and drew and drew and Vi made sure the dresses were made to my orders. I made an awful lot of money from it. Even now, I'm sure there's not that many nineteen year-olds with that much money from fashion, let alone nineteen year-old witches. I never showed my face at fashion shows, mainly because Fashion Week was during school. Viola did, though, and everyone loved her so much they never questioned why the label was only half in her name.

Also in our sixth year, I sat in the boy's dorm, hugging my knees to my chest, and telling the twins that Dumbledore was much smarter and wiser that most sixteen year-old boys and that that age line _would _know an aging potion when it met one. I found it incredibly funny when they grew beards, although I wouldn't kiss George for a week.

It was also in that exact dorm, after years of study (and about one and a half years in the restricted section), I managed to become an animagi for the first time. Which sounds like everyone could do it, but it was hard work, let me tell you. My animagi is a very useful animal. A cat. A black cat, with my green eyes, to be exact. Fred and George were over the moon, because as if they could be bothered to work for long enough to become an animagi, so me being one was awfully helpfully for checking if the coast was clear when setting up pranks and the such.

(Please note I registered with the Ministry when I was eighteen).

In our seventh year, during what is privately known to me as Umbridge's Terror Reign, we all seemed to take more risks than usual (well, the same amount for the You-Know-Who smashing trio). Joining Dumbledore's Army was something I knew I would always do, but it was still stupid. We all could have got in serious trouble for it, but I don't regret it. That Outstanding in DADA didn't come from that stupid theory book, let me tell you.

My animagi skills were a favorite in our seventh year, although I felt far more exposed to the consequences if Umbridge ever found out. I tried to avoid using it, although when Dumbledore left, I put my skills to good use pranking various idiots.

Fred and George were at their most idiotic, and, some would say, most heroic during our seventh year. When George left on that stupid broom, I shouted all sorts of things at him, like ending our relationship. Which _did_ happen, for a while. I was so angry at him. I wouldn't talk to him when we finished school. Mrs Weasley was very supportive of me because she was just as angry at the twins, but I soon got over it. It was dark days to be that angry with the ones I loved. I still loved George, I was just incredibly angry at him.

And so I've loved George Weasley since I was thirteen... Although I didn't admit it until I was fifteen...

After school (and once I got over my anger), I moved into the cramped space above Weasley's Wizard Wheezes with the twins and continued my fashion label. No one actually knew it was me that designed it, because Viola always made appearances. My business was too detached from me. I used my real mum's family name, Prewett (and old wizarding name that I don't go by in the wizarding world) for my designs.

Actually, I'm related by marriage to the Weasley's, mainly Mrs Weasley, because her family name is Prewett. But considering my mum was pure blood, there's hardly any other pure blood family she's (and therefore me) not related to. I'm sure I'm related to Sirius as well, and therefore a hell of a lot of Death Eaters. I'm not really all that sure. Wizarding (especially the Black's) family trees are hell to try and decipher because everyone's related somewhere, so they're really large. Really, really large.

Well.

There we have it. A rather cut down version of my life so far.

Maybe I should explain what I look like.

I am small, petite, tiny, whatever. I'm about five foot-one (although Viola is even shorter and just as small). I hate being small. I sort of wish I was exactly that same height as everyone else, although I love being small when I'm being hugged. Ah, to love what we can't have.

My hair is dark brown with what George calls cyclone-curls. Which is true. My hair curls into soft ringlets at the ends. It's pretty long, over half-way down my waist and hell when it's knotty (PS do not let your boyfriend try to brush your hair by magic in fourth year...).

I have round, green eyes that aren't anything special, although George says otherwise.

And although I've already sort of mentioned it, this is what Viola looks like now.

She is tiny! Under five-foot, about four-nine, maybe. Without heels, though. She's part Asian, and for that, has black, dead straight hair. But her eyes are wide, round and so dark blue they almost seem black, like baby's eyes. And she's really pale (although that might also be from her book-ish-ness and the fact her parents lived in Moscow until she was eight).

She's rather strange and has never had a boyfriend for the main fact that she doesn't believe in love or men. I'm not sure how she works out the last one, but I support her and love her to bits. (But she has once told me that if she was ever to fall in love, it would be with a tragic classical piano player from Tasmania with green eyes who lives in the mountains and would serenade her by moonlight... also known as the impossible kind that we would never find in this world).

And that is me. And Viola.

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_Did you like it? Is it much different? Tell me! Haha, next chapter will be up soon, promise! _


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